


voyage

by survivalinstinctvalkyria



Category: THE iDOLM@STER
Genre: Gen, Happy birthday Minami!!, I Love You, I wrote this after listening to 'voyage', Kind of a character study, basically she's writing on a boat on her birthday, i don't understand this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 01:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/survivalinstinctvalkyria/pseuds/survivalinstinctvalkyria
Summary: 'sparkling waveat times, being in the middle of an intense journey,there should be a scenery that only you can see.flickering wave.draw a future world that crossed through the storm;because now it's too early to give up on tomorrow.'-Voyage (Minami Nitta)





	voyage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [izukasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/izukasa/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Minami!!  
> I couldn't not write something for Minami's birthday, so here this is! I took twenty days to draw something for her, so if you're interested, it's on my IG: twinwingedaria.
> 
> I got the translation for Voyage on the project imas website!

Between the crack of waves against the ship’s hull, and the gleam of the water’s surface that's almost blinding if the sun hits at just the right angle, Minami is pretty sure that something mythical lies under the surface.

It's childish, she knows, but she can't help the thought. Even if it's only for this fleeting moment, she wants to allow herself peace of mind  _ just _ this once.

She keeps telling herself that: that she needs a break, it's well-deserved, the others much prefer this to her overworking herself, but she still feels restless. That sinking feeling at the pit of her stomach like small weight that grows more cumbersome overtime, that restlessness, bites into her soul, and for a moment she debates jumping into the ocean.

Okay, maybe that thought is a bit funny; she's nineteen, but little things like this still get to her. Perhaps that's Anya and her troublesome—albeit endearing—antics rubbing off on her. But even through that laughter, the restlessness persists, so reaches for her bag.

A blue notebook is pulled out, azure hue almost blending into the ocean around her. She pulls the pen off its spine, and flips past pages of intricate notes with the little doodle here and there to a blank sheet.

Before she knows it, she's written out a line:

 

_ No matter what I do, I'm getting nowhere. _

 

It's true, that's what she really feels. Beyond good grades, and athleticism, and a passion that she's getting better at, and general social skills, she feels like she's at a standstill. Like, she can keep doing all of this, but it never makes a difference, and she keeps pushing herself further.

_ No, Minami _ , she tells herself,  _ You're doing enough. _

Again, another line is transcribed to the page:

 

_ These feelings have no place. _

 

What's she even writing? She doesn't really know; she doesn't think she'll figure it out anytime soon, either. That same sinking feeling begins whirling stronger in her stomach, and she debates throwing the notebook into the ocean.

_ That'd be littering,  _ she thinks, and tightens her grip on the notebook. She  _ likes  _ the ocean, so she wouldn't want to do anything to harm it. Rather, she wishes she could throw the weight in her stomach into the ocean, instead, and watch with satisfaction as it sinks lower and lower into the neverending blackness and the sea’s depths.

This time, two lines are written:

 

_ In the bottom of this deep, gloomy sea, _

_ It's fine to let things sink. _

 

Wait, these are familiar to her, aren't they? Right, they are—they're lyrics, the words that turn to music at the hands of the idols who pore themselves over these transcriptions. When she makes this correlation, she remembers a request from the producer.

_ “For your second image song, we'd like all of you to try and come up with the lyrics yourself, so that it feels more genuine,” he'd said. _

Minami’s lips curl into a smile.  _ I can work on those, then, _ she thinks, before she remembers that that would mean that she's working on her birthday break, which is the thing she was specifically instructed against—

_ “Minami, we're sending you on a boat for a reason, don't work, or I'll 'banish you to hell’,” Anastasia had told her, with her lips curling into a devious grin. To her side, Ranko and Asuka had nodded viciously, and somewhere behind the two of them, Minami could hear Kanade and Fumika giggling quietly, and Kaede-san offer to take her out for a drink when she got back. _

Well, she can cheat  _ a bit _ . Besides, this can be relaxing, right? Right, she'll relax herself by writing her thoughts into lyrics. Writing down your thoughts is therapeutic for a reason, after all.

Just a she resolves that writing lyrics is fine way to relax, she finds that she doesn't know how to continue. Should it say something really inspiration, maybe cryptic, maybe—

—Right,  _ right,  _ this is to  _ relax _ . She shakes her and looks up from the notebook. Her sight is drawn in towards the glisten of the sun’s rays falling against the water’s surface. It's beautiful, and her fingers feel that burst of restlessness and  _ need  _ to move (a different kind of restlessness from before).

Letting her fingers move, another two lines are transcribed:

 

_ I glanced up to a gleaming water’s surface; _

_ That is also lovely, right? _

 

The boat rocks slightly, and Minami leans in on herself to stay steady. The captain’s assistant yells something, but she doesn't catch it. Lifting her head, she catches sight of the strong waves hitting against the hull.

_ They're sparkling,  _ is her first thought, and she lets herself get drawn in towards it. Tucking the notebook under her left arm, she stands, and walks to the boat’s edge. She leans over the rail, slotting her leg between the metal bars, and stretches her arm out to the sea. Droplets of water reach her, splashing against her knee and wetting the tips of her fingers.

_ Turbulence,  _ she thinks,  _ really isn't that scary, huh? _

Even as the boat rocks and sways and her stomach twists with the boat’s every boat, she finds an innate fascination in it. Even if she feels herself being thrown back and forth, and everything feels uncomfortably damp, and the wind is sharp against her cheeks and messing up her hair, she still feels  _ addicted _ to this feeling.

This must be what being alive feels like. Facing these difficulties with excitement and determination, maybe dipping her toes in where she shouldn't, and finding entertainment in being tossed around by life; it's an amazing, euphoric feeling. A giggle escapes her, before it becomes a laugh, and she must look like an absolute child to the captain's assistant, but oh well.

But the feeling can't last forever, and as the waves die down, and the boat stops rocking, she finds herself clutching onto the fleeting memory of the feeling. But even though she's not  _ feeling _ it anymore, per say, she can still feel a phantom of it running through her veins.

Quickly, she returns to her seat and takes the notebook from under her arm. The page is slightly bent, but she doesn't care—she can't, not now, when the ghost of true  _ life  _ is still embracing her. In haste, she scribbles down an entire verse:

 

_ Sparkling wave! _

_ At times, being in the middle of an intense journey, _

_ There should be a scenery that only you can see. _

_ Flickering wave! _

_ Draw a future world that crossed through the storm; _

_ Because now it's too early to give up on tomorrow. _

 

Once her pen leaves the page, she takes a breath, and tries to bring in back down, but it's  _ stuck.  _ That euphoric feeling has fully faded away, and now she feels _ empty _ , like she's some sort of snow globe that someone had shaken up marvelled at, before setting her down and letting the wonder settle, leaving her feeling unfulfilled.

She feels something cold and wet against her cheek. Then again. And again, and again, and again, until her entire body is under fire from light droplets of water. She looks up to the offender: rain— _ heavy  _ rain. Her first thought is that her hair will definitely be be ruined.

The assistant yells for her—probably urging her to come into the cabin—but it's drowned out by the rain. And even if she knows that she should head under cover, she feels like she's glued to her seat. The only movement she makes is to shield her notebook from the rain.

It's absolutely oppressive—miserable, even. The lyrics have surely been ruined to some extent, and there's no way she'll be able to find inspiration like this.

Alone. She feels that. It's a grating feeling clawing at her heart, and it makes her almost want to be jump into the ocean herself. There's guilt mixed in with it, because she  _ knows  _ that she, of all people, doesn't deserve to be allowed to moan about feeling lonely.

She wonders if the others ever feel alone themselves, if Anya, and Ranko, and the others forget that she's there for them. From that train of thought, she jumps to the realization that she has them, and she forgot that, and the guilt gets worse.

But some sort of determination underlies it. If Anya were ever feeling oppressed by loneliness, then it'd be her duty to help her, right? That thought alone, the thought of knowing that there others who she'd save in a heartbeat who would save her as well, lightens a weight on her chest. With it, she feels a spark of inspiration burst across her fingertips, and her pen meets the paper as she struggles to keep it dry.

 

_ Like a feeling people can't say, _

_ I can't hold my breath in my chest. _

_ As I forgot how to swim, _

_ I draw out my strength when I'm drowning. _

 

_ If you seek for help, _

_ I will become a mermaid, too. _

 

She wonders what it'd be like if the others were here. She wonders if Anya would be amazed and compare it to her home country's in charming segments of Russian. She wonders if Ranko would come up with a poetic sermon spur of the moment, and bring Minami to laugh and the oddness of it all. She wonders if Kanade would try and use it as an excuse to flirt with the producer like in some sort of romance novel, if Fumika would retreat to the shelter with a book and renewed determination to escape within its words. Love overflows within her, and for a moment, she ponders if the sheer force of that love will clear the sky.

It doesn't, but that's alright. For a second time she gets the sense of being truly alive, and makes a mental reminder to herself to thank the others. She leans down and takes off her heels, futilely smoothing down her sundress in the process. Holding the notebook against her chest, she stand up and hoists herself up on the bench. When she stretches to full height—an impressive one hundred and sixty-five centimeters—she laughs light-heartedly at the sense of childish freedom she feels. The boat rocks violently, and she almost falls, a sobering reminder that she is on the verge of dancing on a boat during a storm. Somehow, though, that thought comforts her, knowing that she isn't stuck in the still of life. With that thought in mind, she leans over to jot down some more lyrics.

 

_ Raging wave! _

_ Even though it doesn't seem like it's getting tamer, _

_ It hangs and rises to the next stage, _

_ Heading forward. _

 

There's no way she won't be soaked when she gets off the boat. The others will probably scold her, but she puts those concerns at the back of her mind. Right now, nothing matters other than the drops of water plummeting down upon her, the sound of the water hitting the deck’s surface, and the true carefreeness of this feeling of being  _ alive _ .

That weight still lies within her, that restlessness and dissatisfaction with how she is now. But she thinks that if—even if only for a moment—she can forget about it, then it's truly worth being alive and doing what she chooses. Maybe tomorrow she'll feel weak and insignificant again, and she'll have forgotten about this euphoria, and that thought almost strikes fear in her heart.

But then she thinks that, maybe, she'll be able to read these lyrics written in the heat of this unbridled joy, and try to overcome those doubts. Another verse comes to her, and she writes it down.

 

_ The truth is: _

_ Such strength, nobody owns that. _

_ So accept your weaknesses and “but still”. _

_ Face forward, and let's go! _

 

When she looks up from the paper, she realizes that the rain has gotten lighter. It's still there, but not nearly as oppressive, and she wonders if part of the crew will come out and yell at her. She steps down from the bench and walks over to lean on the railing. A smile of pure happiness breaks out across her features, and a light giggle escapes her. It's almost embarrassing how childish she's acting, but in the aftermath of rediscovering true happiness, that doesn't matter.

As she looks over the waves, she wonders if she's found an answer. No, she surely hasn't. This 'answer’ could escape her in place of a broken heart tomorrow, nothing is ever  _ that  _ convenient. But even as pessimistic thoughts fill her head, she still finds herself believing that, maybe, that weakness will be alright.

For the final time, she picks up her pen and brings it to the paper.

 

_ Sparkling wave! _

_ Don't end it with the answer you reached for. _

_ The world starts anywhere from here. _

_ Flickering wave! _

_ Today as well, someone's heart returns to being broken; _

_ As this polished wounds are shining, beautifully like your soul. _

 

This time, the rain has stopped completely. She looks up, and past the rain, she spots the dock approaching. The captain's assistant has left his shelter, giving her an odd look (which she ignores).

Looking down at the page of lyrics— _ her masterpiece— _ she realizes that it lacks a title. She scowers her brain for one, but nothing comes to her. A horn sounds, and she remembers that she's going to have to get off the boat looking like this. She sighs, before tucking the notebook gently into her bag, and gently placing it over her shoulder.

The assistant calls for her, and finally she understands him clearly. “Miss, it's time to disembark!” Minami grabs her heels from the deck’s surface, and runs out to him. The platform leading to the deck has already been laid out, and the assistant is looking at her with a look of concern. Going off of looks, he's about her age, and probably has never had a passenger ‘go crazy’ during a trip. “Are you—do you need help?” he asks, not sure what do or say.

Minami shakes her head with a laugh. “No, no, it's fine. I'm sorry if I caused any trouble.”

“No, it's fine… I hope you enjoy your voyage…!” he tells her, not sounding entirely confident.

Her…  _ voyage _ ? Minami mulls over it for a moment before she realizes: those lyrics we're describing her voyage! That ought to be the title! In enthusiasm, Minami leans down and thanks him, “Thank you so much!”

He laughs awkwardly, probably thinking she was thanking him for the sentiment. With that, she exits the boat, and can hear the fuss of the other idols—her friends.

It'll be hard to explain her current state, and she won't be able to share the euphoria she felt with them, but that's alright. Those lyrics she wrote, she hopes she can share that feeling through them. Perhaps, one day, she can give them the gift of true life that she experienced during her  _ voyage. _

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about boats.


End file.
